


Pinto de Mayo - Drabbles/Short Fics

by sarahphym



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, make-up sex, under-negotiated non-monogamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 01:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18729073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahphym/pseuds/sarahphym
Summary: Y'all, it seems I couldn't eke out an actual plot or full story in time for Pinto de Mayo. So here's some brief scenes/snapshots that I've been exploring—some since last PdM, which I missed out on. They are mostly in chronological order, but they sort of leap from one thing to another.





	Pinto de Mayo - Drabbles/Short Fics

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This didn't seem to merit different chapters, so read the headers of each if you want to skip around to specific tags. Feat. my first explicit posting to AO3, omgah! 
> 
> 2\. Also I've literally forgotten how words work, all mistakes are mine. <3

**1**  
_fluff_

 

Chris’s whole body relaxes at the sight of Zach climbing out of the car. “Hey!” 

“Hey!” Zach’s wearing these ridiculous skinny jeans and an oversized tank, showing off way too much body hair to be publicly appropriate. His arms are looking good too—the flex of muscles as he pulls a suitcase from the trunk does things to Chris’s insides. 

Chris's feet finally carry him to Zach's side, and Zach reaches for him. They slap each other’s backs but also take a long moment for a squeeze. Chris breathes in and out, smelling Zach's aftershave and warm skin, almost doesn’t want to let go. But he’s _here_ , and they have a whole weekend to catch up and hang out, so he tells himself to chill. 

“How was your flight?” 

“Eh, it was okay. No shrieking babies, and I treated myself to a couple in-flight cocktails.” Zach throws his carry-on bag over his shoulder and starts off to the house, obviously not even questioning _who_ will be grabbing his suitcase. 

Still, Chris doesn't hesitate to admire the sight of him walking up the path ahead. 

 

//

 

**2**  
_angst, under-negotiated non-monogamy_

 

On a one-week trip back to LA, Zach’s planning on spending his last two nights at Chris’s house. They are fooling around and kissing in Chris’s kitchen—generally making a bit of a mess cleaning up what _had_ been an egg taco situation earlier that morning. Chris has got Zach back up against the fridge, and he feels the grunt in Zach's belly when he palms his waist. Zach pushes back into him, licks into Chris's mouth—when Chris breaks away only far enough to say into Zach's mouth, “God, I could keep kissing you forever.” 

Zach's smile makes it difficult to kiss him as deeply again, so Chris keeps planting smaller ones where he can, mouths at Zach's bottom lip. Zach kisses him back slow, warm and open. “Careful, your girlfriend might get jealous.” 

Chris’s eyes crinkle and he huffs a laugh, “C’mon, it’s not like this counts.” He leans back in, kissing Zach’s now-slack mouth. It takes a second for him to notice how the rest of Zach has gone stiff. 

Chris pulls back, catches the look on Zach’s face. 

“What?”

Zach’s mouth twists into a wry smile, immediately averting his eyes and ducking his head. Chris tries to keep hold of his hand, but Zach pulls it back back too, gently but resolutely separating all the places they were touching. Chris thinks, _What did I say? It doesn't count as cheating, Dom said she was fine with it, Zach knows this, so what is exactly is his problem—_

Chris is already breathing in to ask him what's wrong, when there’s a knock on the door. Their friends have finally arrived and they won't have any more alone time until later tonight. Zach is still smiling, breaks away to go open the door, even though it's Chris's house. 

After Zach's given him the cold shoulder all day, when they’re out having drinks with people, Chris gets drunk enough to forget why they mad at each other, only knows that he can't be around Zach right now. He finds him in the crowd, in a no-doubt scintillating conversation with someone Chris has never seen before. Chris taps him on the shoulder, clutching Dominique's hand in the other hand. Zach turns and his eyes jump from their joined hands to Chris’s face, where sits the most blinding smile he can muster. He's sure it's fully convincing anyone who doesn't know him, which includes 98% of the people in this room. “I’m going to head back to Dom's, you know the code to the house, make yourself at home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He doesn't wait for an answer, just increases the wattage on that smile five percentage points. 

/

When Chris stumbles into his doorway early the next morning, he feels half dead. Zach's leaving today, and he's not sure why he just spent their last night together somewhere where Zach's not. He catches himself in the hall mirror, makes a face at the circles under his eyes. He rubs a hand up and down to wipe the distress that's clear as day off his face. 

He ducks his head into the guest room, sees the bed clearly undisturbed. He opens the door to the master bed, where Zach's already rousing himself. 

"Morning! I'll make some coffee." Maybe a cheerful tone will completely erase Zach's memory of what a dick Chris was last night, or at least make a start. He doesn't hear any comments while he ducks into his closet to find something clean and more comfortable than day-old underwear and dress jeans. 

When he comes back out, Zach's staring at him from the edge of the bed. Chris approaches him, still pretending everything is normal and fine. Zach grabs him by the elbows, yanks him into a kiss, mouth bruising and stubble scraping his lips. Chris opens for him, melting down into Zach's lap, gravity pushing them back down into the bed. 

He goes to reach for Zach's shirt when, Zach yanks away. 

“Get off me.” 

“Zach, c’mon, what the fuck?” Chris rolls off of him, almost completely due to Zach's pushing him up and away. Zach scoots his legs back off the side of the bed. Chris lays there half-sprawled, watches him stand and go rooting through his pile of clothes on the chair. “What are you doing?”

Zach doesn’t answer. His waistband snaps at his hips, and he jeans ore on about twenty seconds faster than they came off. 

“Zach.” Chris gets up, finger tips touching Zach’s side. Zach brushes his fingers away, pulls his shirt on. 

Chris just sits there, hands clenching the edge of the bed. Soon Zach’s patting his pockets and walking right out of the room without another word. _What the fuck just happened._ Sixty seconds ago they’d been about to—

“Zach!” He storms out of the bedroom. This isn’t happening. The air is suddenly dead, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floors somehow louder and detailed. 

Zach already has his keys in his hand, phone sliding into his pocket when Chris reaches the front room. His eyes land on the already packed bag at Chris's feet. So either he didn't wake Zach up stumbling in the door this morning, or Zach had packed up last night, ready to bounce at a moment's notice. Chris wonders if he meant to sleep in Chris's bed at all, or simply fell asleep waiting for him to get back.

“Zach.” 

He finally looks at him, and his expression it’s not anything Chris can interpret. Zach is giving him nothing. He breathes for a moment, and then sighs. “We’ll talk later, Chris. I can’t deal with this right now.” 

“Zach, deal with what? I don’t see what your problem is."

“That’s exactly the point Christopher.”

 

//

 

**3**  
_more angst, self-flagellation_

Zach doesn’t respond to texts for a couple weeks. Chris only sends a grand total of three—he can’t bear to be the one chasing. He eventually sends back a noncommittal reply but think, _I know I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked it up, I’ve fucked us up._

/

When he finally realizes it, Chris gets hit with the truth like a sledgehammer. He gets hot, heart racing. He leaves the party to drive home and panic quietly in his driveway. He spends another week mulling over what to say to Zach and how to apologize. How could Chris have thought this way? It wasn’t the way he thought about other people, or other relationships, so how was it that he saw this situation so wrongly when it was reflected back on himself? He can’t believe how fucking insidious homophobia is that he somehow missed it in himself. But he also knows it's not just internalized homophobia, it’s _self-hatred_. It’s the feeling that there’s something wrong with him, _just him_. He’s fucked up, something wrong inside. He’s got a lot of work to do. 

/

“And I… I’m so sorry Zach. I didn’t mean that you don’t count, that it’s not real. That we… I love you Zach. I wasn’t thinking. I was wrong.”

“Thank you.” Zach sounds quiet. He doesn’t say anything else for a minute, both of them breathing into the silence. “I’m glad you’ve been thinking about this.” Chris is starting to feel like a child waiting for a scolding from his parents, but he thinks _I deserve it. I deserve worse and more._

Zach clears his throat and starts again, “It does count. If your girlfriend went and did what we did with a woman it still counts Chris. If you’re both okay with having an open relationship, I mean, that’s cool and all, you know, you do you, but it still fucking counts.” Zach sighs. “You know I love you too, Chris.” He still sounds so disappointed. “It’s okay. I understand that this isn’t something you’ve had to deal with your whole life," he still doesn't say the words _gay_ or _bisexual_. "...so you haven’t thought about all the ways it affects you, but I think you should talk to someone Chris. You need to take some time for yourself and figure out your shit.”

Chris closes his eyes. _I deserve this, and worse._ “I… I know. I agree.” He swallows. “I was thinking about asking Katie for a recommendation to see someone.” He was, and it’s better than nothing, but it still feels like an excuse. 

“I think that’s a good idea.” They’re quiet again for a moment. Chris is chewing on his bottom lip relentlessly, twisting his paper towel between his thumb and forefinger into more and more unrecognizable shreds. “I miss you.”Zach sighs through his nose again. Chris can see him in his mind’s eye, shifting from foot to foot, the bustle and noise of the city surrounding him. All the things that have taken him away from L.A. and from Chris’s daily life. 

“I miss you too. Look, I gotta go back to rehearsal.”  
“Yeah, yeah—of course.” Chris closes his eyes, huffing a rough breath out and raking his free hand through his hair. He pulls it maybe a little too hard. “I’ll let you go. Talk soon?”“Yeah, sure. Ok. Bye.”

“Bye.” He hangs up, squeezing his phone so hard he gets concerned for the circuitry and stops, throwing it on the counter with a clatter. He feels better, but still not like they’re back to being okay. 

“Fuck.”

/

So he goes to therapy. His sister didn’t bat an eye when he asked for a recommendation, just forwarded the contact information the next day. 

He hates it at first, it doesn’t feel like he’s accomplishing anything. It’s not like he has this great trauma he has to work through. He’s a lucky guy, his parents didn’t emotionally abuse him growing up, he’s got a half decent career, so what the fuck is his problem?

 

//

 

**4**  
_making up and dick sucking_

Chris wants to show him how much Zach means to him. He wants to make him feel good, remember why he should keep coming back to Chris’s bed. He pulls off Zach’s sweater, thumbing the stubble at Zach’s jaw, kisses his mouth, presses his hips into Zach’s, puts his open hand low on Zach’s back. Zach opens to his mouth, returning his kiss sweetly. Breathing slow and even and keeping a hand on Chris’s shoulder and neck as Chris slides down his body to undo Zach’s belt and fly. Chris kisses a line across Zach’s hips, tugging his pants down. He runs his hands down the back of Zach’s thighs, behind his knees. He rubs his thumbs there, looks back up at Zach to meet his eyes. Keeping his gaze, he leans his cheek into Zach’s hip, hugging him close. He turns his face into the crook of Zach’s thigh where it meets his underwear, opening his mouth. He nuzzles against Zach’s growing erection. 

Zach slips his hands into his underwear and pulls himself out, cupping his hand underneath his dick. Chris obliges him by taking him into his mouth. He’s still soft enough that Chris can fit him all in. He relaxes his jaw, just takes a moment to get Zach nice and wet before pulling off with a gentle suck. He looks back up at Zach’s face, letting his lips catch on the head of his dick, tongue dipping out to taste. “I missed this.” 

Zach’s mouth is relaxed, bottom lip hanging open. He brings his hand to Chris’s face, thumbs his mouth open, and guides him back down on his cock. Chris sucks, lets Zach guide his head up and down, closing his eyes and letting himself get lost in it. He loves this, going down on his partner, both men and women, always has. And Zach’s dick is a lovely familiar weight on his tongue. He’s too big now to take him all the way, but he takes him as far as he can, pushing himself enough to gag a little. Zach moans a little, and Chris feels a thrill low in his belly, knowing Zach likes to see the effort. 

He takes a break to catch his breath, burying his nose at the base of Zach’s dick, jerking him in one hand and mouthing at his balls. He turns onto his side so he can rest his head on Zach's hip and belly. He palm the warm length of him in his hand, jerks the root of him while mouthing at the still-growing head of his cock. He gets him wet all over with his tongue and eases his open mouth down on him. Zach's stifled breath goads him on, and Chris moans a little for the vibration, a feedback loop that gets his own dick harder. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feel of Zach in his mouth, his taste, his smell. Chris ruts his hips into nothing, pulls at Zach with his free hand, cups his balls and gently rolls them. Zach scratches his short nails down Chris's back, and tugs on his hair, neither telling him to stay or to go.

Chris stops moving, but keeping Zach in his mouth, nudges into the fingers at his scalp. They gather into a fist, firmly start pushing down, then back up again. Chris moans low in the back of his throat. Zach keeps the depth shallow enough to breath, but starts fucking his hips up into Chris's mouth. Things go a little fuzzy for a while after that, but when Chris comes back to, Zach's breathing like a freight train and Chris is hard enough to come at a single touch. 

Zach has both hands on him now, one on his shoulder and one still firmly planted in his hair. He shoves Chris down, deep, no warning, and Chris has to override his body's urge to panic at not being able to breath. He actively relaxes his jaw, keeps jacking the base of Zach's cock, until he feels the spasm and jerk. His own dick seems to throb with each pulse of Zach's come in the back of his throat. 

After a moment, Zach relaxes his grip enough for Chris to pull off, gasping. He's barely got his breath before Zach's shoving him to his back, crawling on top of him, and getting his hand on Chris's cock. He barely pulls at him three times before Chris shouts out in relief. Zach stays on top of him, skin sticky and slick with the mess between them. He presses his forehead into Chris's, and they both close their eyes, catching a breath.


End file.
